


Neverland

by sugar-and-spice-parker (WriterReadsStuff)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Play, Forced, Forced Ageplay, Gen, If you dont like dont read, Non-Sexual Age Play, but like, daddy!Tony, forced age play, i will say it a thousand times if i must, just sweet cute nsap, little!peter, nsap, peter is 14 bc its non sexual obviously, this is not sexual i repeat not sexual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26048692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterReadsStuff/pseuds/sugar-and-spice-parker
Summary: “You’re going to pay for this. Whatever the hell... this is.” Peter threatened, still pulling helplessly at the chains around his wrists.Tony chuckled. “That’s cute, baby boy.” He smiled eerily, eyes dark and lustrous as he examined the teenager pinned down in the crib beneath him. Peter’s eyes were welled with tears and his face was red from screaming. That was alright, though, it was all part of the process.The boy glared. “I’ll kill you myself. I’ll break out and I’ll- I’ll-I’ll-” He tried, but the matter was clear in of itself. He wasn’t going anywhere. “Lay down, sweetheart.” Tony cooed, “You’re getting all fussy over nothing.”-Or, Tony is a high-ranking member of an elite community where kidnapping victims are forced to behave like children. Peter just so happens to be the perfect baby for him.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 190
Kudos: 627





	1. The Instagram Account

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!! please read at your own risk!!! thank you!!!

Tony Stark sat in the poorly decorated office building with a bored look and a too-full wallet. 

He’d done many things in his life. Charisma seemed to get people a lot farther than they cared to think, at least that was his experience. 

Being born into money was fine for those who had the right amount, who knew what to do with it to entertain themselves. Tony didn’t quite fit that bill.

Which was exactly why nobody had batted an eye when he helped with funding a private community in upstate New York. Just a place for him and his rich-ass friends to live away from the world’s eye. Only by invitation, of course.

And if someone dared to find out about their… less than common practices out there in the sweet little suburban paradise he’d created, well, they wouldn’t be able to blow any whistles for much longer.

But still he waited, helping each of his fellow elite, he stayed couped up in that big fancy house all by himself.

Today, he was interested in changing that.

“If you’re looking for something good, Mr. Stark, I think we have just the right one for you.” The overpaid and underdressed worker insisted, showing Tony yet another public instagram profile on the system  _ he  _ had designed for fuck’s sake.

That was his claim to fame here. The man who designed  _ the system.  _ A gorgeous interface perfect for finding the most ideal candidates for their little game.

When it was being run by competent agents, of course. God, how did this woman get a job here? The interview process took weeks for outsiders to be welcome in, and  _ this  _ was what they were letting join nowadays?

This girl, no older than 16, wasn’t what he wanted at all. Not that he knew what he  _ did _ want, but that was a separate issue. Still, the youthful energy and positive vibe of the overall feed theme was nice. He could get behind having one like that. It was  _ cute _ .

Cute just wasn’t enough for him.

Tony rolled his eyes. “No. No no no no no. A thousand times no.” He refused, shaking his head wildly in disapproval. 

“Our work is extremely client-based, Mr. Stark, you need to help me out here.” The agent responded, sifting through the program once more.

Tony sighed in agitation. “I want the right one. Okay? None of these are my baby. I’ll know them when I see them.” He insisted.

God,  _ them _ . Not that he’d admit it, being the top notch community member that he was, but he held a little self remorse over not even having a gender picked out yet. 

Or an age.

Or a lot of things, if he was being honest.

What? He liked to keep an open mind. At least that’s what he always told himself whenever it kept him up at night.

He liked playing with Bucky and Loki, sometimes Clint was even a fun little rascal, but all three of them were just too energetic for his old heart. 

Shuri was sweet, as were most of the girls, especially when he did a naptime shift down at the daycare, but he usually felt like the feminine side of things wasn’t really his style.

Of course, he was a forward thinking man. If his little girl wanted to play with a ball, he’d encourage it. If his little boy wanted to play dress up, same deal.

Maybe he could add some opposite-gendered toys to the playroom once things got started, that would be a smart idea...

“Do you have any preferences? Gender? Hair color? Age? Skin color?” The woman asked, typing away with the tell tale pattern of  _ clicks _ and  _ clacks _ to tell him that she was nervous beyond belief.

Fair. He had basically created her job, after all. He could probably take it away.

The man scoffed. “First off, that last question makes me consider having whoever made that even a viable factor in the process fired. I sure as hell didn’t do that. Secondly, I don’t fucking know  _ what _ I want. That’s your job.” He stressed. 

The agent took one last look at the computer, a desperate look hiding beneath her sea green eyes. “Alright, would you rather your Little be someone you can relate to? Maybe some shared interests?”

Tony smiled. He liked the sound of that. Someone he could blabber to about his latest whozits and whatzits, someone with the ability to listen to a whole ten hour story about the time he broke a motherboard in the middle of his final exam without getting bored. 

“That would be nice.” He sighed contently.

“Okay. Okay. So, here, let me plug some things into the database.” The woman smiled, “How about you name some core interests of yours? I can guess, but this will keep things accurate, yes?” 

Tony prattled and blabbed on, listing his main attributions. “Engineering, chemistry, science stuff. All that jazz.” He explained, as if this woman who probably worked for him in some capacity (Did he own this agency? That was an important question, huh?) didn’t already know all there was to know about him. 

She continued typing away, before opening up a tablet and utilizing the touch screen to scroll through what was probably a much smaller list of potential babies.

After all, it was very hard for a person to have their social accounts found and searched by even the best of the best interfaces, and even more difficult to actually qualify and have their name added to the list of options, and it was  _ especially  _ difficult to also be interested in STEM related activities while still qualifying.

All in all, there couldn’t be more than 4.

“What about this one?” The woman offered, turning the tablet around and offering it to Tony.

The man’s breath hitched the moment he layed eyes on the kid’s perfect face.

He was young judging by the username,  **BeterParkour2001** , and also clearly had a horrible sense of humor since his name was also listed on the nametag. Peter B Parker. 

What a cutesy name,  _ Peter _ . 

His hair was brown and curly, looping around like ribbons on the most expensive of presents. The boy had eyes to match, big and wide and  _ innocent as all hell _ . Like the perfect little baby all rolled up into those orbs of honey and chocolate. 

Yes, baby was right. He’d always been using that as a general term, but now he was sure of it. 2 years old at the most, if he had to guess an age placement.

Peter’s smile was wide and sweet, slightly yellowed teeth that indicated he ate too much candy on show and his lips spread and stretched so much they must have hurt.

Even the way Peter ran his instagram was just right, all made evident the more Tony scrolled. 

Shots of him at Coney Island, cotton candy all over his face and just screaming for someone to grab a wet wipe and fix him all up. Even a candid picture where he was cuddling up on a couch- perfectly ready for an afternoon nap.

_ What a sweet little thing _ , he thought to himself.

**Oscorp intern of the year, local nerd, and basic bitch that refills the same starbucks cup with homemade to trick the haters. ISO pc parts.** What an adorable little bio.

But that swearing? No, no, no. This boy was  _ far _ too sweet and adorable to use such grownup words.

And the job position, don’t even get Tony started. He’d never liked unpaid interns, it was basically slave labor and as far as he was concerned no boy Peter’s age should be subjected to that.

_ Nerd _ was nice. Tony liked intelligent people, although he would need to keep an intelligent baby under high scrutiny during the regression process. If this kid was building a PC, he was definitely going to need to be reeled in.

And no more coffee.  _ Definitely  _ no more coffee for such a sweet little boy.

Oh, god. Tony was already planning out the nursery in his head.

Tony marveled at the perfect image before him, ideas flowing in and out as he imagined all the ways him and Peter could play together. Was this what it felt like for Steve? He always talked about the way it felt when he first saw Bucky.

This kid was perfect. No,  _ Peter  _ was perfect. A sweet little baby pretending to be a big boy- not understanding that Daddy was right around the corner ready to snuggle him up for a nap.

What was that story about another famous Peter who never grew up?

Irony’s a bitch.

“Yes.” He said quickly, already scrambling for his wallet. How much did it cost to have a boy under 16 delivered again? Way more than the older ones, he knew that. The younger the better when it came to teaching them the ways of their new home.

The agent grabbed a pen. “Yes? You’d like to look into Peter some more?” She verified.

Tony laughed, opening the billfold and pulling out a few 100 dollar bills. “I don’t need to. How much?”


	2. The Waiting Game

It had been nearly a month since Tony put forward the cash for Peter.

An eventful month at that, he’d nearly redecorated the whole place by this point. 

He’d studied that instagram profile relentlessly- finding each detail he could on his baby’s personality. 

Little hints in this game of clue, a perfect board all being played in his favor. The good thing about teenagers was how much they gave away online, he supposed.

A photo of a motor told Tony that the boy was  _ incredibly  _ smart. He liked that. Maybe Peter would have fun “helping” in the workshop. 

It would be more so handing his Daddy tools and playing on the mat in the corner, but just having his baby in the room would be nice.

Then, one of the pictures was candid, where he was carrying donuts to… the girlfriend. That Tony would prefer  _ not  _ to talk about.

There was a picture of NYC and a picture of his homework, both showing an undeniable amount of creativity just bursting out of his little head. All good signs that the boy would like the toy cameras in the playroom.

Peter’s attempt at a throwback thursday was… the cutest damn thing in the world. Apparently, the kid was half-irish and half-jewish. He had the sweetest little sweater vest on in the picture, where he couldn’t have been more than 8. 

It made Tony’s heart swell.

A selfie where Peter’s hair was recently cut, tucked under a hoodie as he shyly smiled at the camera, showed a certain level of vanity. 

He supposed it was justified with a face that adorable, but Tony still thought his little boy would need an attitude adjustment.

There was even a picture of Peter playing in the snow- or, rather, “skiing”- and another showed a classroom, with only a donut emoji as a caption. Tony didn’t understand that one.

One nearly scared him, he’d admit, where Peter had posted a shot of the inside of a girl’s bathroom at his school. 

But, upon looking further, it seemed the boy was only showing that he’d gotten the opportunity from the school board to move some of the menstrual supplies from that room into the boy’s bathroom. Such a considerate little thing…

But, all those things were just ideas. The real thrill came when he started preparing.

The nursery was simple, baby blue walls and a crib in the corner, a changing table just against one of the windows. It was decorated with show toys, none that Peter would really be playing with much, and the most adorable mobile of little forest animals.

Then the celling.

Oh, the celling.

It was painted a deep, dark blue, and covered in sparkling glow in the dark stars. Then, a cute little Peter Pan, Wendy, Michael, and John could be seen flying off to the brightest star of all, placed right above the crib.

What? Tony liked the name a lot.

Then, the playroom was filled up with more toys than Peter could ever play with. 

His toy box was packed, then there was a small play kitchen in the corner and a dress up bin accompanied with a cute little changing screen.

He’d even made sure Peter had a little train set, just for the novelty of it.

There was now a highchair in the kitchen and a playmat in the living room, office, and the workshop. 

Everything was baby-proofed, too, just to be safe.

Locks on the doors, cuffs on the crib, parental permission codes on every TV channel that wasn’t pbs or a preschool block, baby gates throughout the house and on the top and bottom of each staircase. 

All to ensure that Peter would stay right where he belonged.

Now, he just needed the baby.

A loud DING startled the man from his thoughts.

At the sound of his doorbell, Tony shot up from the couch, running at full speed to unlock the door and see for himself.

There, in one of the gatherers’ arms, lay the unconscious figure of Peter. He looked exactly like the pictures, the only change being a small red dot at the back of his neck.

He stammered, merely muttering out a simple “Thank you” before grabbing his baby, gently cradling the sleeping boy in his arms, and closing the door.

“Hi there, sweetie pie.” He cooed, laying the poor thing down on the couch for a moment so he could get the boy changed.

Tony placed a small band-aid onto Peter’s neck, paw patrol themed of course, and then went about getting his baby dressed in an adorable little pajama set.

“You and I are gonna have a lot of fun together, I promise.”


	3. The Victim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is v short but its intentional dont @ me

“Mr. Parker?” A voice echoed.

Peter turned on his heels, acutely frightened by the stranger behind him. 

It was a large man, kind of burly in that defending-the-president sort of way. The kind of guy MJ would  _ love  _ to fight. Not Peter, though.

The boy stuttered. “Y- uh- um- yeah?” He asked, looking around the dim alleyway.

He was just trying to get home from the academic decathlon meet. 

Normally, May would pick him up, but her shift at the hospital was running particularly late tonight and Peter had promised he could walk home by himself.

He wasn’t a baby anymore, after all. 

He was a whole teenager, capable of doing things by himself, thank you very much. If an upperclassman had offered him a ride, though, he may have taken it.

God, he needed a new metro card...

“Nice to meet you. I’m interested in some of your work.” The man introduced, offering Peter a hand to shake as his calluses were put on display.

Peter gaped. “My…” He started, drifting off as he thought. 

The man smiled. “Your school referred you to me. Midtown, yes?” The staff hadn’t said anything about him being recommended to an employer. Wasn’t that… weird?

“Uh, yeah, but-” Peter just didn’t understand. He talked to Miss Wisenbockfeld  _ every _ morning when he dropped off his inhaler at the front desk. 

Why wouldn’t she mention it?

The man sighed, rolling his eyes at Peter’s reluctance. “They were going to have us formally meet next spring, but I just happened to see you walking by. Would you like a bite to eat?”

Peter panned. What place would even be  _ open _ ? It’s, like, 10 o’clock. And he was  _ not  _ about to go to Denny’s with a stranger.

In a stranger’s car.

At 10 o’clock at night.

All because the guy  _ claims _ to know him.

Holy shit. Holy  _ shit _ .  _ Holy shit. HOLY- _

Peter needed to get out of here. And fast. This was  _ everything  _ he had been taught to avoid. Everything May had warned him about when he said he could walk by himself. Why the he’ll hadn’t he booked it earlier?

“I’m really in a hurry, so I think I’ll just...” Peter started, glancing frantically around before giving up and running at full speed down the alley.

The man didn’t even give chase, just stood there blankly as if he was a soul of a creature, a lifeless entity brought here just to torment Peter’s mind.

His feet ached, pleading for salvation as the road beneath him crunched and crackled.

As the boy reached the end of the alley, he took a harsh turn, and immediately felt arms wrap around his torso, a strong hand slamming his jaw shut before he could scream.

The hand moved, quickly replaced by another, holding a rag close to his face.

Peter held his breath, kicking wildly as he was pulled in the direction of a large van. 

His lungs ached, screaming for oxygen as his vision went blurry and bleary with haze. His limit was reached, and the boy helplessly inhaled the obvious chloroform.

The arms placed him into the van, an extra prick hitting Peter’s neck, shoving him under. The boy just barely caught sight of what must have been 10 men, all standing around and assisting as the door was closed, and he fell asleep.


	4. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man chuckled with an air of accomplishment. “Silly boy. You’re just a little confused, huh? Is that what's making you all fussy?”
> 
> Peter didn’t even respond.
> 
> What would he say?
> 
> Fuck no, sir, please let me leave mr. kidnapper sir i do not consent to whatever the hell this is and it’s actually illegal to hold people against their will hahahahahahahaha please let me go

Peter awoke in an unfamiliar room. 

“Hello?” He called.

It echoed back to him.

His voice bounced from wall to wall, making the nursery feel- wait, nursery?

Peter evaluated his surroundings. Definitely a nursery. Maybe… maybe his kidnappers had a kid? Maybe he was just being held in here for a little while, because of child safety locks and stuff. Thrifty kidnappers.

He tried to stand up, only to be tugged back down by an impenetrable force. Leather straps were securing his wrists to the bed frame, some kind of strong metal inside of them, and identical ones held his feet.

There were more bars than just the two frames, though, as extras were lined across the sides, making some sort of… crib? That didn’t make sense. Why would kidnappers make a crib that could fit Peter?

“Hello?” The boy called again, more confused and desperate than before, but no reply came.

His breathing grew slightly labored as Peter frantically looked around the room. There was a changing table in the corner, also large enough for  _ Peter _ and most definitely  _ not _ belonging to someone’s kid.

What the hell?

Peter shouted this time. “HELLO?”

“Hi there, honey.” A voice greeted.

Peter jumped out of his skin, turning to see a well-dressed man suddenly standing in the now opened doorway.

The dude had brown hair, kinda scruffy but in a stylish way, and a goatee that reminded Peter of his World History teacher. Who the entire school shipped with Mr. Dell. It was a thing.

“Oh thank god, can I have a little help here?” The boy asked, tugging on the straps to show his situation off.

If this guy could just undo the restraints, Peter could probably take him. Okay, he couldn’t, but adrenaline was a thing, right? People lifting cars off of babies and shit? Maybe that would work.

“No, baby. You can’t come out of your crib until 9.” The man said, coming closer to Peter until he was standing over his figure, and running a hand from the boy’s collarbone down to his stomach.

It was at that moment Peter realized what he was wearing.

His entire body was covered in what looked to be a gigantic version of a toddler’s pyjama set, all decorated with Thomas the train as if that wasn’t completely mental. Peter’s crotch also felt weirdly… off. Like something was around his waist that shouldn’t be.

“What the fuck?” He breathed out, staring down at his own body.

The man gasped. “Naughty word!” He exclaimed, “Good boys don’t say that sort of thing, Peter. Does Daddy need to punish you already?”

_ Daddy?  _ Peter thought to himself,  _ Oh hell no. I am  _ not  _ going to be some sick pervert’s sex toy. Nuh uh. No way. That is gross as hell _ . 

Peter glared down at the man, before thinking.

_ There's nothing that will keep me safer than compliance _ , the boy pondered.

He opened his mouth gingerly. “I’d like an explanation before I start screaming, you have ten seconds to start.” He said.

The man chuckled with an air of accomplishment. “Silly boy. You’re just a little confused, huh? Is that what's making you all fussy?”

Peter didn’t even respond.

What would he say?

_ Fuck no, sir, please let me leave mr. kidnapper sir i do not consent to whatever the hell this is and it’s actually illegal to hold people against their will hahahahahahahaha please let me go  _

“Well, you’ve been adopted! Yay!” The man cheered.

What? Peter turned his eyebrows downward. “Adopted?” He asked, looking into the man’s too-cheery demeanor.

“Yeah, adopted!” The man exclaimed, “And now you get to live here with Daddy, yeah?”

Okay, so this guy was crazy. Totally off kis rocked. Bonkers. Missing a few screws. Insane. Not all there. “Who- who are you?” Peter asked.

“My name is Tony Stark,” The man, Tony, introduced, “but you will address me as Daddy. I suppose I’ll also accept variations, but you get the idea.”

The boy choked. “ _ Daddy _ ?” He asked, completely baffled. He was  _ not  _ calling him that. Not at all.

“Yes, sweetie?” The man said. “No, no, I just…” “Still a little confused, eh? That’s quite alright. There’s still some medicine working through your system after last night.”

_ Medicine?  _ Peter asked himself,  _ Who the fuck refers ro chloroform and i fectable drug #289365493 as medicine?  _ “Yeah…” He agreed, not bothering to complain.

“And, now, your name is Peter Stark. Got that?”

Peter titled his head. What? “But… it’s not? My name is Peter  _ Parker _ . ” He said.

Tony chuckled. “No, no, no. That’s what your old Mommy and Daddy named you, yeah? You're my baby now, so I want you to have my name.” He explained.

The boy trailed. “...Okay.” He said, still too conscious to fight or yell. He needed to live to escape.

“Okay,  _ who _ ?” The man demanded.

Peter tensed, cocking his head in false confusion. He wasn’t saying it. He wasn’t. Not in a million years. “Huh?”

Tony glared. “I’m an old fashioned man, Peter. I like direct address. So, you were saying?” He prompted.

“Okay, sir?” Peter tried, but Tony was having none of it.

“You’ll find I have a rather short temper when it comes to stubborn little boys and the tendency to revolt. Now, Daddy will ask you once more and only once before he feels the need to give you a punishment. You were saying?”

Peter composed himself. “Okay, Daddy.” He mumbled, the feeling of bile in his throat intensifying on that second word.

“Good boy.” The man cooed, causing Peter to cringe.

He needed to get out of here. And fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay!!!! this one was vvv fun to write lol.


	5. The Overalls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man glared down. “Peter, Daddy asked you a question.” He reminded his victim. “Can I wear something else?” The boy asked.
> 
> Tony gasped. “No, little boy, you may not. That’s a very rude thing to ask. Say you’re sorry, now.”
> 
> “What? Why?” Peter asked, aghast. Tony has asked him if he liked it!
> 
> The man tutted angrily. “Daddy knows best. When he tells you something, he isn’t looking for sass. I told you you were going to wear the overalls.” 
> 
> “You asked my opinion is what you did.” Peter snapped with venom on his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!!! so, if you dont follow up on tumblr with stuff u may not have heard but my cousin is in the hospital and that combined with technical issues led to this update being a day late- sorry! (also reminder that updates on this story are all through my sugar-and-spice-parker tumblr)

“Alright, it’s 9 now, time for breakfast.” The man said, way too confident in himself and his fucked up delusions. “Daddy wanted to do something special, so he made it all himself.”

Tony pushed his wrist up to the cuffs on Peter’s wrists, and an unceremonious click was heard as the things snapped open.

Peter startled, before noticing a bracelet latched to Tony’s appendage. Tight. Probably so Peter couldn’t pull it off him. Smart man, unluckily enough.

Peter remembered MJ’s magic band collection, all those little items she brought home from disney world every year.

He missed MJ so much already. Did she miss him this much?

The boy was lifted out of the crib and his body was swung awkwardly- god, this man was strong- and Peter’s legs were forcibly wrapped around Tony’s waist. “Now, normally, the house staff will take care of that, but for today it’s all going to be just the two of us.”

He took Peter over to the godforsaken fuckshitshitshitsitshitfuckshit changing table and the boy could nearly scream. 

“Up we go!” Tony cooed, lifting Peter and placing him onto the contraption. “Let’s get you changed. I’m assuming you didn’t go potty last night, huh?”

“What?” Peter asked, still dazed.

The man cooed. 

He stuck his hand into the- okay, no. Nonononononononono. Peter blacked out he swore, the entire three seconds just darkness in his mind until he heard:

“Oh, yes, look at that. All dry. Well, we’ll be training you anyway, so it’s not that big a deal. Here, let’s find something cute for you to wear, alright?”

Wait, trained?

What?

Peter rolled his eyes, and- thankfully- Tony didn’t react to the disrespect. At least the crazy kidnapper knew to pick his battles.

“Awwww! What about this, baby? Let’s go with these little overalls. See, it’s a little crown. Isn’t that adorable? Don’t you love it?” The man asked, showing Peter a pair of overalls that had an embroidered pocket.

_ Not A Frog _ , it read, with a little crown underneath. It would be cute on a toddler- but Peter? Ew.

The man glared down. “Peter, Daddy asked you a question.” He reminded his victim. “Can I wear something else?” The boy asked.

Tony gasped. “No, little boy, you may not. That’s a very rude thing to ask. Say you’re sorry, now.”

“What? Why?” Peter asked, aghast. Tony has  _ asked him _ if he liked it!

The man tutted angrily. “Daddy knows best. When he tells you something, he isn’t looking for sass. I told you you were going to wear the overalls.” 

“You asked my opinion is what you did.” Peter snapped with venom on his tongue.

Tony rolled his eyes this time, mirroring the boy’s earlier behavior. “That was rhetorical. You’re too young to have an opinion on what you wear. Now, apologize.” He insisted.

Peter sighed. “Sorry.”. He said.

The older man looked at him evilly once again. “Daddy. Sorry,  _ daddy _ .” Peter corrected. God, he was  _ not  _ about to get a spanking. That would be too fucking far.

Tony cooed once more. “Good baby!” He squeaked in a sickly sweet voice.

Peter would prefer  _ not  _ to discuss the dressing portion, thank you very much, although he would never forget the way he gagged at the sight of the diaper pinned around his waist- Barney the purple dinosaur and a few abc blocks proudly emblazoned on the front.

“There we are, cute as a button!”

“Sure.” Peter went along.

Tony picked him up once more, and the process continued as they exited the room.

“You have staff?” Peter questioned, remembering the comment from earlier, taking great note of each turn they took through the halls of the house.

It was fancy.

Real fancy.

Tony chuckled lightly. “Oh, plenty.” The man exclaimed, “I’m- you know what, that’s a little above what little boys need to hear. Let’s just say that your Daddy has lots and lots of nice stuff, yeah?”

“Sure.” Peter agreed, as he didn’t want to test the man anymore than necessary.

As they stepped down the steps, Peter looked anywhere else but at Tony- until he had basically committed the halls to memory, and then watched as he was taken into a kitchen.

There, next to the table that had been done up with more food than Peter had ever seen, was a large, plastic structure that made the boy want to scream.

A fucking highchair.

God, help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments and kudos are much appreciated!!!!


	6. The Highchair

“Here we are, into the kitchen we go!” Tony chirped, Peter shaking slightly on his hip.

This wasn’t any different than the crib. This wasn’t any different than the changing table. But there was just something about the idea of being placed into a  _ fucking highchair  _ that made Peter want to clock this man so hard.

But he was never the strongest, was he?

Just puny Penis Parker, who couldn’t even break a pencil or draw a cool S like the other kids. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone. He couldn’t.

Peter thought back to how this had  _ definitely  _ been an orchestrated affair. The guy that distracted him before he got grabbed knew his name, his school, everything. 

There was no doubt in his mind that he was royally screwed.

They probably picked him out days in advance. Maybe weeks, judging by the setup. Or months, or… years, deca- well, not decades, he’d only been alive for one full decade so multiple was out of the question there.

Unless they’d been planning this since before his conception, always an option. Oh, god...

“Holy…” The boy trailed, trying hard not to think out loud but doing it anyway. Further proving his own point.

Tony didn’t respond, merely strutting over to the dastardly structure. “Now, let’s just get you all settled into your highchair and then Daddy can grab your breakfast.” He said.

Peter bit his tongue so hard it bled, soon barking out a “Holy jesus fuck-” as Tony undid the highchair’s tray.

“Bad boy, Peter!” The man shouted, looking aghast and appalled as though defiance from a kidnapping victim was unfathomable. “Does Daddy need to give you a spanking?” He threatened.

The boy stiffened. “No.” He choked.

“Then stop asking for one. We’re having a nice Peter and Daddy day, but that can all go away if you continue to misbehave.” Tony threatened.

Peter didn’t want to know what would happen if he got on this man’s bad side. Would he be killed? His body treated like that of Fanny Adams for him to be a grotesque monster of post-mortem dismemberment?

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” The boy promised. 

Tony chuckled condescendingly. “I wish I could trust you to keep to your word. Until then, this might help.”  _ Rude, _ Peter thought.

As the man finished removing the tray, he hastily sat Peter down. A segment of straps were roped over, reminding Peter of the harnesses put on carseats and strollers for babies, securing him right into the highchair’s seat, before the tray was replaced.

What was he kidding? It probably  _ was  _ the same harness as they put on strollers. He wouldn’t expect anything less.

“Awww, aren’t you a little cutie pie? Yes you are! Yes you are!” The man cooed, and Peter nearly socked him. But, yet again, that was probably a bad idea.

The man turned for a moment, before grabbing a player from the island and turning it Peter’s way. “Anddddd here’s your food, baby! Let’s see, what do we have today?” Tony baby-talked.

Peter prayed for a moment that he wasn’t expected to actually respond, that this wasn’t fucking Dora, and was pleased when the man continued. “There’s some bacon, and some apple slices, and a bagel, ooo yummy yummy, huh?” He needed to go to temple as soon as he got out. He owed God a visit after that miracle.

“Yes, daddy.” The boy forced. “There we are. You’re learning!” Tony cheered.

Peter wanted to gag.

“Here, open up.”

The boy spoke up hastily as a piece of bacn wad roughly shoved in front of his face. There was no way he was doing that. “C-can I feed myself? Please?”

Tony squinted. “If you want to do it yourself, then Daddy will need to keep a close eye on you to be sure you aren’t hurt. Is that alright?” He asked. Peter stalled. Was…. was he meant to answer? “Is that a real question or is it rhetorical like before?” He checked.

The man chuckled. “Oh, baby. You’re just the cutest little thing, aren’t you?” He cooed, “You’re not old enough for clothing opinions, sweetheart, but you are big enough to get uncomfy. If you’re scared, you just tell Daddy and he’ll make it all better, yeah?”

That… that was actually quite nice of him.

The kidnapping outweighed it, but Peter would take what he could get. 

“Yeah.” He agreed, quickly adding on.“Daddy! Yeah, Daddy.”

Tony  _ awwww _ ed again. “Good boy. Here we’ll just cut up your food and you can feed yourself breakfast like a big boy, huh?”

Skip five, maybe ten minutes, and Peter had finished the plate, his stomach aching from fullness. It was actually quite nice, and the silence was well-deserved.

“All done?” Tony checked. Peter nodded. “Yes, I’m finished.”

The kidnapper cooed. “That’s a good job, sweetheart. Eating all your food like that, you deserve a treat.”

A what? Peter didn’t even want to- was this guy going to  _ fuck him _ ? Nope, nope. He needed to bleach his eyes real quick. And his brain. Not the time for gen z vernacular? Who cares! Peter surely didn’t.

“Here, how’s this?” Tony’s voice rang, as the man held out a single chocolate chip in the palm of his hand.

What? The boy squinted his eyes, hoping not to offend but also wanting to send the message that he was _ not  _ dumb enough to eat something so suspicious. “What is it?”

“A chocolate chip.” The man explained, “You can have something sweet everytime you go above and beyond for Daddy.”

The fuck? That was weird. Sugar in exchange for behavior? What was he, a dog? Nononononononononononononono, he was no dog.

Peter timidly locked eyes with Tony. “Are you, like, gonna touch me or something?” He asked.

Tony’s eyes went wide. They grew and grew until they were the size of saucers balancing precariously on the man’s face. Huge and unyielding. Terrifying.

“No no no no no no, sweetheart.” He said, “I would never do that. You’re far too little for that sort of thing.”

That was good. Very good. But not… not good enough. That didn’t make this okay.

The boy stammered. “Okay. Okay.” He said, trying to calm himself a little as he repeated the word.

He felt sick to his stomach. Like his heart was being torn apart by a paper shredder, and dumped into… probably a diaper pail, if this was any indication of the state of Peter’s being.

“Here, come on, it’s playtime for you while Daddy gets some work done. Be a good boy and stay in this room.” Tony commanded

Peter had a very  _ bad  _ feeling about this.


	7. The Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter nodded thankfully. “Okay.”
> 
> “Good baby. Here, I took off work today to look after you anyhow. Why don’t we play together, does that sound fun?” Tony asked, already taking off his shoes so that he could join his baby boy on the floor.
> 
> The boy tensed. “No.” He quickly spat.
> 
> Tony glared. “Peter.”
> 
> “Yes.”
> 
> “That’s what I thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo last week went off the rails and the chapter got deleted (i gave updates on tumblr) and so here is that chap lol

As Peter watched the mahogany door slam shut behind him, locking loudly as he was trapped in the infantile playroom, he wondered if this was it.

Would he die here?

Would he spend his days from now until the end of time, trapped with this crazy man and his crazy delusions? 

There was no way he was getting lucky. Everything was too perfect. So, so goddamn perfect. This was heavily planned.

Maybe Tony had watched him for years, analyzing his every movement.

Who knew? Not Peter.

“Fuck…” He mumbled, glancing around.

The room wasn’t insane, not really. It actually looked normal. The only unsettling thing here was Peter. Nearly grown and here he was, sitting criss cross applesauce in a playroom, wearing toddler’s clothes like some kind of wacko.

He was going to need serious therapy if he ever escaped.

There were lots of toys. Tons, in fact.

Barbies and playsets and houses, even dress up clothes littered one side of the room. Hey, at least the crazy kidnapper man didn’t support gender roles, that was a plus, right?

Or Peter had a “sister”, in which case they would  _ both  _ need to escape.

The other side of the room had more traditional toys. Lots of race car tracks and action figures, even an arts and crafts table. Peter noticed that, on the side, it was labeled as Fisher Price X Lego DUPLO, which told him it probably had a lego table underneath.

Baby legos, but, still: legos. Peter was just happy to imagine that he might have a chance at something familiar.

As the boy scrounged the room, he stood, racing over to where he saw a stuffed bear plopped on the ground. It was sitting up a little too stiffly, almost as if…

“And bingo was his name-o.” He voiced, noticing the battery pack and velcro. Peter gave the thing a squeeze, watching as it burst out into song and it’s mechanical arms moved to hug the child it was constructed for.

Peter didn’t want to pay attention to how it seemed to be grabbing at Peter’s own dimensions, almost as if it was created with a larger person in mind.

He tugged at the velcro, watching at it popped open, and began pounding on the back in hopes that it would pop off, assuming that his captor wasn’t going to just hand him a screwdriver.

Maybe… maybe he could build something. A gun. Who knows? Something had to be done about th-

“Peter?”

“To- uh- um- uh- ah- D-Daddy?” Peter screeched, turning around to see the man staring down angrily at him.

Where the hell had he even come from? 

Tony nodded and hummed in response. “Mhm.” He sounded a quiet threat for Peter to behave.

Tony knew well and good what happened to little boys that went messing around without Daddy’s permission.

“I-I wasn’t-“ The boy tried, but Tony cut him off before the babbling went too far.

He quipped. “Wasn’t what? Because the baby monitor sure seems to say you were attempting to break open your toy, honey bunch. Daddy doesn’t want his baby being destructive.” He seethed.

Peter’s eyes went wide, as he searched around the room, finally zoning in on the camera on the shelf, right next to a box of just-in-case baby wipes.

“I- I wasn’t-“ He tried, but Tony knew better. Peter was being naive and innocent, thinking he could just do something like that without being caught.

He was so cute.

Tony liked cute.

The man cleared his throat. “You were being naughty. Don’t lie to me.” He reminded his victim. “I’m sorry.” Peter solemnly responded.

He took that, despite its clear indication. “It’s alright, little one. First offences don’t warrant punishment. Just don’t do it again, okay?” He pleaded.

Peter nodded thankfully. “Okay.”

“Good baby. Here, I took off work today to look after you anyhow. Why don’t we play together, does that sound fun?” Tony asked, already taking off his shoes so that he could join his baby boy on the floor.

The boy tensed. “No.” He quickly spat.

Tony glared. “ _ Peter _ .”

“Yes.”

“That’s what I thought.”

The man reached over towards the hot pink bucket. “Oo! How about we open the barbie bucket, yeah?” He smiled.

And that went on.

On and on and on until Peter was ready to literally shoot himself. Literally. Not a gen-z depression joke. He was not doing okay.

“Well, I think that’s about it for the time being. Come on, it’s nearly nap time.” Tony cooed, lifting the boy onto his hip.

Peter pouted. “Nap? Seriously?”

Tony shook his head, tutting a little as he jostled his baby on his hip a little. “Daddy doesn’t want you getting fussy. Come along, baby boy. No tantrums.”

“It’s not a tantrum.”

“Oh, look at that, sounds like someone is about to throw a tantrum, what did I say?”

The man smiled gently and gave his baby a ruffle on the hair, before carrying him into the nursery again. “Be still for me while I get your jammies” He insisted.

Peter’s brows furrowed. “Can’t I sleep in these?” He asked.

Tony chuckled lightly at the notion. “I need to change you into a nighttime diaper anyway, so comfy clothes it is.” He said, tapping Peter’s crotch lightly to make clear what he was referring to.

The boy’s eyes went angry and tense at the mention of the padding still fastened around his waist as it had been of a morning.

“Fuck you.” He seethed.

Tony snapped. “Peter, do not fucking test me. Sit still and don’t let me hear those words come out of your mouth again. Got it?”

Peter didn’t say a word after that.

He only sat still, behaved and docile as he let the man do as he pleased.

He knew it wouldn’t end well if he fought back.

Still, as the boy was chained into the prison again, his shackles rattling as he wiggled down into the mattress, he felt the need to speak up.

“You’re going to pay for this. Whatever the hell...  _ this _ is.” Peter threatened, still pulling helplessly at the chains around his wrists.

Tony chuckled. “That’s cute, baby boy.” He smiled eerily, eyes dark and lustrous as he examined the teenager pinned down in the crib beneath him. Peter’s eyes were welled with tears and his face was red from screaming. That was alright, though, it was all part of the process.

The boy glared. “I’ll kill you myself. I’ll break out and I’ll- I’ll-I’ll-” He tried, but the matter was clear in of itself. He wasn’t going anywhere. “Lay down, sweetheart.” Tony cooed, “You’re getting all fussy over nothing.”


	8. The Snake In The Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like a snake in the grass.

As Peter heard the sound of gentle creaking, he slowly awoke from his bleary state.

His brain mulled. What was that sound? May didn’t have creaky floorboards, and neither did Apartment 12J up above them. Thinking on that- Mrs. Maksy was nice, maybe he needed to stop by one of these days and offer to babysit for half price. Laura was a sweet kid, and she had brought down those cookies after Ben, so he supposed it was only right that-

The thought of a little girl with pale blonde braids and her signature JoJo bow brought memories wooshing back into Peter’s mind.

Oh god.

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god.

He needed to get out of here. Why had he let himself fall asleep? He didn’t even remember- all Tony had done was close the door and Peter was- what the hell?

The boy began shifting, thrashing in the hold of the handcuffs that secured him into the infantile cage, bound like a convict to the mattress. 

“Woah woah woah, what’s wrong, buddy?” A voice echoed. Not just any voice though, Peter recalled, the voice of the devil incarnate. The voice of a criminal. The voice of him.

Peter cracked open an eye timidly.

Tony chuckled above him. “Hey, little guy. There, there.” The man cooed in a hushed voice. “You’re okay, you’re alright. Daddy’s right here. Don’t fuss. Come on. What was it, bad dream?”

In his moment of tremble, Peter noticed the rocking chair in the corner, still moving in a gentle sway. Like a horror movie.

He supposed he was in one, no matter which way you spun it.

A chill blew through the room as Peter mumbled back a simple “I’m fine”. He wasn’t not, really. But he was far from at the point of insanity where he might voice that to his captor.

Blearily, Peter tuned in to each word the man spoke.

“We’ll need to get you dressed, sleepyhead. Maybe something other than what you wore all morning. Ooo, I think you’d look handsome in your sweats. Want those?” He cooed.

Little mind was paid. Peter didn’t have the energy, not after everything. He just nodded slightly and let himself fall lax as the cuffs were undone.

_ Daddy  _ wasn’t gonna handle it well if he said no, so what was the point?

“Hmmm, yes. Very cute.” He hummed, popping the boy atop the changing table and stripping him down.

Peter didn’t scream or kick like he wanted to as his pants were removed and he was changed into a thinner ensignment. He only placated his anger.

Tony got him wrestled into a pair of sweats soon enough, and it was like the air supply had been replenished. Thank god.

“Cute as a button. Just the way I like it.” Tony chuckled, tapping Peter on the nose.

Something about it made Peter feel like he needed to wiggle around in his spot, to writhe and squirm until the sensation was gone, but he didn’t want to risk getting smacked senseless for showing discomfort.

He had decided he hated Tony even more. God, this was getting to him. Why wasn’t the police at the door yet? He had to have been gone like 12 hours now.

“You ready for lunch, cutie pie?” Tony asked.

For a moment, Peter let himself imagine a time when him and MJ had gone to McDonalds for a date. She made fun of him, said he was an idiot and had never heard of romance. That was the best lunch he ever had.

Something told him this lunch wouldn’t quite be the same.

“I had some fruit warmed up before you came down. The house staff won’t be in for another day, since I figured a bunch of new faces would make you shy, but we can manage.” Tony said, picking the boy up and carrying him out.

“Can you promise Daddy you won’t throw any fits tomorrow? I’d hate for such nice people to be made uncomfortable by your behavior.” He commanded.

Peter smiled slyly.

“Yeah, I can do that.” The boy agreed, eyes bright and wide in realization. He could do that. He could do it. He could break out in an instant if he just waited.

Calmly.

Quietly.

Like a snake in the grass.


	9. The Afternoon Woes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And it was good, Peter wouldn’t lie, bit that didn’t change how much the boy was utterly ready for these staff people to show up and get him outta here. Just one scream, that’s all he needed, could probably kick the guy in the nuts and run for the hills after that.
> 
> The mood shifted as the food kept coming in, until Peter’s poor stomach was bulging and aching and he had to turn his head away at the offer of more food.
> 
> Tony frowned, before looking down at Peter sadly and taking the plate away. “Good boy, Peter. Such a hungry kiddo.” He hummed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you’re also reading CTCA and havent heard, this series’ posting issues have been transferring over to that story. Do jot worry, it is still in continuation, but chapters are getting delayed due to technical difficulties and human error.

“I’m thinking of it. Just, give us some time. He’s still new. Just got up from naptime and we had a bit of a fuss, you know how babies are. Maybe in a week.” Tony continued prattling on.

The boy, bored out of his mind, could only vacantly scowl as he munched on the crackers he had been given to hold him over until  _ Daddy  _ finished up on the phone.

He was talking about Peter. He had to be. Bragging about how he had a teenager trapped in his house, how he was forcing Peter to stay docile for fear of punishment.

There was anger in the boy’s mind at the thought of someone being so dumb as to brag. He’d get out soon. He had to.

“Yeah, yeah. Love you lots.” Tony’s voice echoed again from the other side of the room, linoleum tiles pushing the sound down Peter’s throat. “No, I mean it. Don’t test me, honeybear. Alright, call you later. Bye.”

Peter tensed in some vague manner, as the demon before him placed the phone down atop the counter, and turned to face him. “Hey, bud.” The man cooed again, “Sorry Daddy spent so long on the phone. Boring grownup stuff.” He prattled, reaching out to run a hand through the boy’s hair.

It was funny, in a grim way. How uncomfortable Peter felt when he closed his eyes and felt the digits comb through his messy curls.

As a baby, he vaguely remembered his mother doing that. She would always say that Peter’s hair was so darn tangled he needed to shave his head if he ever wanted to escape the endless knots. He used to giggle.

Now, he was terrified.

“Oh, how about some healthy lunch, yeah?” Tony hummed, picking up a plate in his haste and setting it in front of Peter.

Warmed up blackberries sat in a pile on one side of the little divider plate, with broccoli and chicken filling the other two slots. It wasn’t anything fancy, not like that nice italian place May’s ex used to take them to.

Peter didn’t like when May’s boyfriends were around, but José-María had been really interested in Peter in particular, so that guy got a pass. He even got Peter a new winter jacket that christmas.

Tony turned the plate around to face himself, plucking a fork and then plunging it into a blackberry. Oh god.

Peter figured interrupting was a bad idea, but this, no. No way. Not happening. “I can-“ He started, but soon the fork was in his mouth and Tony was humming along happily. “It’s good.” He smiled.

And it was good, Peter wouldn’t lie, bit that didn’t change how much the boy was utterly ready for these staff people to show up and get him outta here. Just one scream, that’s all he needed, could probably kick the guy in the nuts and run for the hills after that.

The mood shifted as the food kept coming in, until Peter’s poor stomach was bulging and aching and he had to turn his head away at the offer of more food.

Tony frowned, before looking down at Peter sadly and taking the plate away. “Good boy, Peter. Such a hungry kiddo.” He hummed.

A minute passes as Tony placed the plate on the rack and then lifted Peter up and out of the devil trap. “Playtime! Here we go, up up up! Oooo, look at you, you’re a superhero! Dun dun dun dun!” He cried, lifting the boy over his head with brut strength and dancing around.

Fucking hell.

The highchair had rocked a little as Tony pushed against it, making Peter wonder why it wouldn’t move when he did anything. Soon, though, there wasn’t time for that, as shivers ran up through his body.

Fingers danced along his sides, as the boy screamed in agitation.

“What? You think I’m silly, huh? You think your Daddy’s silly?” Tony teased, a gentle tone lingering in his voice as he tickled the boy’s foot, too.

Peter laughed.

He shouldn’t have.

“Daddy loves you. More than anything in the whole world.” Tony hummed.

Peter glared in return, a simple “Fuck you” crossing his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments and kudos are much appreciated!!!! my mental health is a lot better than last week so you should get responses lol


	10. The Attempt

“Morning, pumpkin!” Tony called with a chirp.

_ One day down, an hour to go,  _ Peter thought to himself.

He’d spent the whole night thinking it over. In fact, he hadn’t slept at all. He was much too busy plotting this psycho’s demise.

The boy mumbled incoherently as he felt the cuffs click off. “Mornin’” He stirred.

Tony chuckled, lifting Peter out as the teen tensed awkwardly and flung his legs around. “Oh, are we sleepy still?” He cooed, pointing to the evident bags under Peter’s eyes.

“Rough night.” The boy lied, looking away and distant. He wasn’t interested in discussing the matters of his insomniatic fantasizations, the way he had seen the bars slam and the orange jumpsuit appear nearly a hundred times.

Peter wasn’t crazy, not like this guy, but he was dark in the head sometimes. A matter of habit, he supposed, perhaps a relic of his childhood traumas. 

The man smiled anyway. “Hmmm, yeah. Your eyes are a little bloodshot. I’ll give you eye drops, how about that?” He asked.

But the boy only shrugged. God, he was tired, though. Maybe he should have at least slept a little bit. He wasn’t gonna make it that far on foot if he didn’t have a good amount of energy. “Can I just sleep a little longer- uh- Daddy?” He asked.

Tony seethed. “Peter, your Daddy is not about to start to go down that road. We have schedules for a reason. It’s wake up time for you, now stop that fussing and let Daddy get your eyes taken care of.”

The man settled Peter atop the god forsaken changing table, pulling out eye drops and quickly plopping a few into the boy’s eyes in such a quick motion he almost didn’t see it coming.

“Ow!” He jumped.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Just a little sting, you’re nearly two, Peter. You can handle it.”

The boy tensed.

Woahwoahwoahwoahwoah. Woah.

Woah.

“I’m  _ what? Nearly? _ ” He gasped, pulling away and shaking his head. That was gross. Gross gross gross.

Tony shook his own head in resignation. “Nearly two, you heard me loud and clear. Not quite, but technicalities are a bit overdone. Counting in months and whatnot. Who wants to do that math? To say “19 months” is too complex.”

The boy groaned. “Jesus christ.” He mumbled a little too loudly.

19 months. This crazy psychopath was claiming he was 19 months old.

“Now now, no tantrums. You promised to be good today.” Tony quelled.

For a short while after, Peter remained silent as a mouse, not bothering to slam the man’s face in as he was entertained in some desperate parental attempt to stop the…  _ tantrum.  _ “Who’s there?” “Oh! Look! It’s Peter!”

“Ohhhhh, Peekaboo!” “Ohhhhh, Peekaboo!” Ohhhhh, Peekaboo!” “Ohhhhh, Peekaboo!”

“Ohhhhh, Peekaboo!” 

Tony smiled down at the boy. “Good baby. Here, hold still.” He asked, pulling off Peter’s pajama set and replacing them with a buttoned onesie and pair of stretchy jeans.

The man chuckled. “Such a handsome boy, Peter. You’re even snazzier than Daddy.” He joked.

Peter nearly threw up.

As they descended down the stairs, Peter held precariously on Tony’s hip. The boy inhaled deeply and calmly, hoping not to raise suspicions. As the kitchen door was opened, though… “Now, remember to beha-“

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Tony slammed the door closed, but Peter caught how a few people inside, wearing emblazoned uniforms and shocked expressions, had turned to face him. “You little-“ Tony tried, but Peter only kept on.

“HELP! HELP ME! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

The man screamed. “Peter, shut it!”

And he did.

God, why did he? Perhaps it was the way that n was running out to his rescue, od how Tony didn’t look scared at all. Only angry.

“You wanna behave like that? Huh? Fine, have it your way then.”


	11. The Stroller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WHY DID YALL NOT TELL ME I MISSED A DAY AHHHH

“Ack!”

“Ahh!”

“St- Ow!”

“Fu- Hack!”

“Ahhh!”

“Hey!”

“Ouch!”

“This is what happens to little boys that don’t behave well, do you understand?” Tony seethed, continuing to pound on Peter’s poor ass.

He was  _ not  _ gonna be sitting down after this.

The boy quelched. God, this guy was strong. Probably packed some major beef if he could cause this much pain with a slap.

Well, technically not a slap.

Peter was  _ not  _ using the technical term.

“Fu-“ He started, the pain worsening with each blow as he felt literally every inch of his bottom seethe and hurl. 

Tony glared down at him, before shouting once more.

“Peter!”

The boy froze. “Y-yes!” He agreed.

What was the question?

Tony hit him harder and harder, angrier and angrier. “Does this seem like a joke to you, Peter?” He tried again.

Peter struggled to speak, but screamed back his corrected response. “YES, DADDY!” He tried, hoping to make it stop.

And it did.

Tony plucked him up, turning the boy round and round until he was plopped just right atop Daddy’s knee.

“Good.” he hummed.

Good.

Good.

The hell was  _ good  _ about all this?

The man sighed, before running a hand through Peter’s hair. “Do you have anything to say to me?”

Hell no.

Not in a million years.

This man, this crazy man, wanted- what- a thank you? An apology? Peter didn’t owe him anything.

If anything, this guy owed him $200000 in psychological damages and life in jail.

“The answer can be “no”, but I’m going to start getting upset if you don’t give any answer at all.” The man expressed.

Not happening, Peter was smarter than that.

He supposed, if he ignored the craziness of everything, he had heard other kids discuss how their parents used to expect things after a punishment, but May never had.

She just sat him in the corner for five minutes every damn time until Peter hated that corner so much he still was afraid to go near it.

Did he learn his lesson? Of course. So, if this crazy fucking lunatic was trying to be a good parent, he was taking too many steps.

“Peter.”

Nope.

“Peter.”

Nuh uh.

“Peter Anthony Stark.”

No way.

Wait- the hell?

The actual hell?

The boy responded this time, with a resounding “No.”, but he supposed that had been clarified as allowed.

Tony huffed. “Fine.” He sighed.

A moment passed, before the man spoke again. “You know, I didn’t want to do this so soon. I thought I’d let you settle in first. Still, your little stunt today has proved me wrong.” Tony sighed, plucking tbe boy up and pinning him to his hip before gallavanting around the house.

He pulled out a large stroller-  _ jesus christ,  _ Peter thought,  _ what? Does this guy have a carpentry studio in the basement? The hell is he buying this shit? _

As he placed Peter inside, Tony gave the simple warning of “Don’t.” and tied the straps as tight as they could go.

Tony pushed the stroller, bringing Peter along with it, through the house, before opening the door.

Peter wasn’t sure what he expected.

A giant empty forest?

A vacant field with dead rats littering the ground?

A million police cars?

But, no, because all he saw was a a normal piece of suburbia.

With no kids.

And a lot of kidnapping victims.

“Peter, welcome to Avonlea.”

He was  _ never  _ reading Anne Of Green Gables again.


	12. The Neighborhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter was gonna need a lot of therapy after this.  
> “What are you looking at, bud?” Tony asked, his eyes twinkling with that competitive gaze that seemed to be permanently emblazoned on his face.  
> The boy tensed. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw if u didnt see my tumblr post (@sugar-and-spice-parker) all of my fics are temporarily being updated every OTHER week!!! keep in mind this is temporary and will not be lasting for very long. i just need some time with personal stuff right now.

“Now, I know this is a bit soon, so it’s okay to be scared, but you need to keep still and quiet. No causing a scene.” Tony threatened, giving Peter a testing glare.

The boy reached for his shouler, squeezing the fabric between his fingers.

It was a nervous tick, something May had always gotten on him for, but he needed something to do.

He needed to focus on anything else.

There were _people._

_Other people._

Not just Peter. Not just Tony. People who were new and strange and just like him. 

Where the hell was he? Was he even still in New York? This would have to be... god, miles and miles and miles upstate from Queens. There were no buildings, no skyscapers at least. Just suburban houses like Peter had seen on TV, and what looked like a commercial area beginning around the bend.

The people were all... weird. And when he said they were like him he meant it exactly like it sounded. They were all different ages, different appearances, different whatevers, but they were all confined in infantile clothing, like him.

But they weren’t screaming.

They weren’t running.

Hell, most of them were all on their own, the sick, twisted people that seemed to be holding them captive a few yards off, and they were just... standing there.

Peter was gonna need a lot of therapy after this.

“What are you looking at, bud?” Tony asked, his eyes twinkling with that competitive gaze that seemed to be permanently emblazoned on his face.

The boy tensed. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Tony laughed a little at that. “Oh, well you seem pretty interested in that there nothing.”

Peter hummed.

They continued walking, looping circles until Peter became oddly familiar with the area. It felt different. It didn’t feel like the house. Like a jail cell disguised as a home.

Why did this area feel so normal?

And yet, as they continued moving Peter noticed that one abnormality.

The way the people would look at Tony. Each glance the same, calculated to perfection and inquisitive in the nature of humanity.

They would smile at Tony, make pleasant eye contact, and then look at Peter. No eye contact, only a slightly surprised expression, before back to Tony. Another smile, bigger, different, knowing.

And it was in that moment, trapped in a stroller ride that mimicked a merry go round that Peter realized.

They knew where he came from.

The knew what was going on.

Those other people, the ones they had done up as their children- they weren’t just like Peter.

They were Peter.

Oh god. Oh no. No no no no no no no.

One man, one house would be easy to escape. A whole fucking community of these sickos? He was totally screwed.

“Hey, Tony! What you doin’ out this time of day?”

Fuck.


	13. The First Uncle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit.  
> Shit.  
> Shit.  
> Did he mention shit?  
> Oh, and fuck.  
> That too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall!!!!!!!!!! ya know i love you guys so i wanted to make sure you all heard that me and rafni are currently beginning writing on our THIRD COLLAB!!! so, for fans of our... darker take in LLL, you better be getting ready for some real tears. gonna make that shit look like childs play

“Steve, lovely to see you!”

The other man, Peter noticed, as the god forsaken stroller was turned in the correct direction, had blonde hair and blue eyes.

And he was built like a _tank_.

The man- Steve- chuckled. “Oh, the pleasure’s all mine today. May I...?”

“Oh, of course! Just be a little gentle for now. And maybe don’t get too close for your own safety. You know how they are this early on.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I think Buck taught us all that I have nothing to be worried about with the strength on these little guys.” He explained.

_Shit_ , Peter thought, _does this guy have a guard dog? Or... a deer? No, people don’t name deers. Especially not after deer. That would be weird._

The man approached him cautiously. “Hey, little buddy. I’m your Uncle Steve. Has your Daddy told you about me yet?” He asked.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

Did he mention shit?

Oh, and fuck.

That too.

Uncle? He wasn’t- well, this guy was acting really friendly, but he hadn’t even considered- jesus fuck.

Of course the psycho had family. Oe, found family, judging by the fact that they looked nothing alike. Peter understood genealogical variation, but this was _not_ Tony’s brother. Not unless the mother had some secrets to explain for.

”Steve, it’s only day two. I had promised Rhodey he’d get first dibs, though, so don’t tell him you got lucky.”

”Oh, please, Tones. My lips are sealed.” Steve joked.

Tony pushed the stroller back and forth a few times, before asking Steve to come back to the house with them.

”Yeah, sure. Just, uh, give me a second. I’ll make sure Buck’s asleep and then I’ll show up at your door. Last night was rough, so he’s as not ready to meet Peter as Peter probably would be to meet him.” He explained.

Damn, this guy was really invested in his guard dog.

As Steve walked off, Tony turned the stroller around and they made their way through the cul de sac, before Tony finally closed the front door.

”Okay, buddy. That was fun, wasn’t it? Got some fresh air, saw the sights, what do you think?”

Peter stammered and stumbled, looking around as if the right words would be floating around the room.

There was one thing he did know, he wasn’t breaking out. Probably ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all sm for reading, lovelies


	14. The Unfortunate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Petey, you okay?”  
> “I’m fine!” He squeaked.  
> He wasn’t.

Tony held Peter tightly on his lap as Steve shedded his shoes at the mat.

Not to call it an insult, but Peter felt some small semblance of flack knowing that his kidnapper was a “shoes off at the door” type of person.

Made fucking sense.

“So, other than the obvious how’s things?” Steve asked, settling into a bar stool.

Peter glanced around hopelessly, gawking at the way that the house staff just... walked. Right past him. 

It was like they had seen this all before. Like it wasn’t totally mcfucking insane that this- any of this would be going on.

Then again, the more Peter thought about the ramifications, the way things were outside, that just made more and more sense to him.

Of course they weren’t put off by any of this, they were all part of it. It was a whole fucking neighborhood- or, god, city, maybe- of lunatics.

”Well, you know. Semantics with the program have been keeping me up all night. God, I don’t know what I’m gonna do when nightmares start with this one. Basically spending all of my evenings in the office anymore.”

Steve chuckled. “Oh? Looks like I might be babysitting sometime soon, then.”

Yeah, fat chance, magic mike. I’m not letting you start grabbing me like little guy over there.

Even if you are big and scary and could probably punt me to Australia.

”No, no. Rhodey would kill me. I’m probably gonna have to have him take him sometime next week, he doesn’t have any little ones running around the place either. Pretty sure Buck would scare Pete’s socks off, knowing him.” Tony explained.

Knowing me? Peter wondered. This guy didn’t know shit about him. Hell, he probably didn’t even know Peter’s real name. 

Peter Anthony Stark.

What a stupid name.

Steve laughed, reaching over to run a hand through Peter’s hair. Peter shook his head violently to make him stop, which Tony was... surprisingly okay with?

The action made Steve laugh, before properly stopping and giving Peter a gentle tickle to the stomach.

Something about the feeling made the boy aware of a pressure in his lower abdomen, something he had felt in the back of his head for the last few hours, but was suddenly overtly obvious.

Shit.

No, fuck.

Not the time to think about that.

“Petey, you okay?”

“I’m fine!” He squeaked.

Except he wasn’t.

The boy began wiggling as the conversation resumed over his head, occasionally pulling and tugging at the arms keeping him on Tony’s lap in hopes that he could run away and find a restroom.

The conversation momentarily paused, Steve holding up a hand and gesturing to Peter. ”He been changed recently?”

Tony shook his head, as a ruby red blush stained the boy’s cheeks. ”No. Hasn’t needed one. I snuck a little of the good stuff to him at dinner, but it hasn’t made it through him yet.”

Steve chuckled and motioned once more. ”I’d have to disagree.”

With a cock of the head, Tony looked down, taking a long look at Peter’s strained face.

”Oh. Hey, Petey-pie. Come on, let’s go upstairs to your room. Steve, we’ll be right back.” He said, lifting the boy up and beginning the journey to the nursery.

”I’ve been there. Keep him calm, I’ll be just fine.”


End file.
